


Going off the Map

by Flatfootmonster



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ....well that's a concept, Adam is always cute, Adam is trying to get back to L.A., Almost miss, Except Nigel survives, First Meetings, Instant Attraction, Its like a Xmas rom-com, Just minus the com, M/M, Misunderstandings, Nigel gets him somehow, Nigel is a Cab driver, No Zombie Nigel, Post Movie, happy endings, things happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 01:10:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flatfootmonster/pseuds/Flatfootmonster
Summary: “I didn't mean to offend you, or upset you. I was just… I thought it might help. It was fucking dumb.”“No it wasn't fucking dumb.” Adam's mouth moved awkwardly around the cuss word, “It was nice. People don't try and accommodate me normally. They usually just stare or sometimes comment, ignore me, avoid me or make fun of me. But they don't help. Thank you.”Nigel shrugged, uncomfortable under the appreciation for simply not being an asshole. Was it that hard for people to accommodate someone who ran in a slightly different lane from them? Apparently so. “Fuck them.” Nigel said gruffly, suddenly feeling a stab of rage toward these hypothetical people.





	Going off the Map

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BeMyValentine615](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeMyValentine615/gifts).



> So, I wrote this yesterday. A brief quick edit but it's not perfect. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoy! I was just missing my spacedogs babies. 
> 
> Thank you Lady_Darkness for your help with the editing! 
> 
> Love, Becs

Adam checked his watch again. It was 15:52. The bus _should_ have been here at 15:45. This was not good. He had done everything to plan, of course. He had stayed on target for time and he had made his way to the bus stop with fifteen minutes to spare, just in case.

Face impassive, Adam stared down the block, there was a lot of traffic and the bus was nowhere to be seen. How much later would it be? Harlan had offered him a ride and he should have taken it, but Adam felt the need to assert his independence, he had done just fine in California and he should do just fine here too. Here, there were just so many memories of him _not_ being ok, he had enjoyed the seasonal trip home to visit his friends here but he was eager to get back to his new home where his clean slate awaited him.

How had he not factored in the Christmas rush to his planning? He should have known that the weather would be bad and people would be hustling about to get last minute shopping. The buzz of humans and the noise of the traffic was beginning to ruffle him. Closing his eyes, Adam counted down from ten, making himself breathe deeply. It was going to be fine, he had given himself two hours between reaching the airport and when he would be called to board his plane.

It was going to be one hour and three quarters and _that_ was if the bus appeared right now. Opening his eyes, Adam glanced both ways, illogical as it seemed, to make sure the bus hadn’t been and gone and he had missed it. No, he had definitely not missed it and the traffic had moved three whole meters since 15:52. It was now 15:58. Impatience was growing in him and, with that, anxiety. His jaw clenched tight and he tried to release the death grip he held on his bags, his hand was starting to hurt with the strain.

_“You just fucking cut me up you asshole!”_

_“You were slow, deal with it punk.”_

_“Punk? Who you callin’ a fucking punk?”_

Adam blinked as horns started to blast around him. A pair of cabbies were shouting at each other, the last one to shout back was stepping out of the cab and had slammed the door shut, the windows on the cab that had cut in rolled up fast. The aggressive cabbie had a cigarette dangling from his mouth and wore nothing but a short sleeved shirt.

Stepping back from the curb, trying to distance himself from the aggravation playing out in front of him, Adam put himself right in the path of a man that resembled a barrel wearing a sheepskin coat. The rotund man shoulder into Adam with such force that his bags dropped to the floor and he almost careered head on with the bus that was hurtling past him. _His bus_. It wasn’t stopping either. Adam glanced the foggy windows, that surely encased too many people for one bus by safety standards, before his attention was on the burly man again.

“Watch where you are going!” He spat at Adam before he bustled on down the icy street. Adam was left gawking at the man’s back, trying to engage his brain and mouth to retort. But it was too late, the man turned a corner just as Adam began to work his lungs again. The missed opportunity for anger quickly lapsed into emotion, he wanted to cry. This hurt. He didn’t want to be here in the cold, he should be on the bus, that he could no longer see, on his was back to California. Back to his sanctuary. He should never have come back.

The drama was still playing out from the cabbie, who had been banging on the other cab’s roof and shouting in an accent Adam didn’t recognise. Suddenly the noise stopped and a pair of tyres screeched into the bus lane just as Adam found himself slumped on the stairs of an apartment block. He raked his fingers through his hair, gripped tight and yanked painfully, trying to focus on anything but his spiralling emotions. He hated crying.

Nigel skidded to a halt as the asshole in front of him ducked into his lane, cutting him up. He shouldn’t have bothered breaking and allowed himself to cruise straight into that worthless pile of junk that was, in all fairness, identical to his own. He didn’t fucking need this right now. The upheaval to this chaotic part of the world had not been easy, he hadn’t even found a place here, somewhere he fit in. He had picked up this job because he knew a guy and it seemed the best way to get to know his way around this dumpster of humanity. But this wasn’t how he was used to living and it wasn’t how he wanted to live either. It was what it fucking was and something would come up, some opportunity. It always did.

The crisp air slapped him in the face as soon as he opened the window, sticking his head all the way out, Nigel cleared his throat.

“You just fucking cut me up you asshole!” Nigel yelled to the cab now in front, his window was open too, there was no way the driver would miss that.

A chubby bald head stuck out, his scalp was so shiny Nigel was sure he must have polished it. What a dick.“You were slow, deal with it punk.” The guy screeched back with a smirk.

Well. That was fucking it. “ _Punk_? Who you callin’ a fucking punk?” Nigel hollered as he yanked his door open, spitting onto the road and grabbing the cigarette behind his ear to thrust between his lips.

His boots hit the tarmac that had at least been iced, unlike some of the sidewalks which were fatalities waiting to fucking happen. His door slammed shut and he hastened towards the other vehicle, grinning when the windows rolled up fast. His fist pumped against the cold glass as he sidled up to the driver's door.

“You look like the fuckin punk bitch,” Nigel bent to peer at the shiny cueball of a man who looked as though he was uttering apologies, his hands up and fingers spread and the glass fogging with his breath. Nigel wrinkled his nose at the poor excuse of a man, his breath probably smelled of shit too judging by the yellow, jagged teeth that were flashed at him in a nervous smile.

“So you've got balls enough to cut someone up and call them a punk,” Nigel lit his cigarette before blowing the smoke against the glass, “ But you can’t get out of your car and face me like a man?” Nigel snickered, the man was repeating the word sorry, elaborating the word each time whilst trying to wrench the gear shift about like he was trying to yank it free.

“So you should be fucking sorry.” Nigel stood and banged his fist on the roof of the cab just to amuse himself with the way the man jumped out of his skin. A bus hurtled past  and Nigel’s attention was directed elsewhere, to the curb side where a young man was staggering back from the road. A guy that could have been this cabbies older, uglier brother was yelling at this kid. The kid just stood there and took it and watched the guy walk off, Nigel was sure he was shaking. Bags were scattered on the sidewalk, it looked as though he was travelling, or trying to. Maybe he had been waiting for _that_ bus. He looked too lost for anyone with a heart to be hostile towards, this place was full of spineless assholes.

“One day you will fuck with the wrong _punk,_ asshole.” He shouted at the snivelling bag of shit before the tires screeched and the cab pulled into the bus lane and sped down a side street. He turned to stroll back to his cab, taking a long drag from his smoke, when he happened to glance at the sidewalk again. The young man was now collapsed on the stairs of a shabby apartment block, the bags still sprawled near the post that the bus stop sign was attached to. Nigel’s gaze shifted to his vehicle and then back to the man. Sighing, Nigel flicked his cigarette butt on the ground, heeling it with his boot, then strode to where the man sat. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere fast. 

As he neared the distraught man, he stooped to pick up the bags. Nigel stood for a while in front of steps, going completely unnoticed. 

“You ok, kid?”

Adam shot his head up, he hadn’t even heard someone approach. There stood the angry cab driver, staring at him with _his_ bags in his hand.

“I’m not a kid. Those are _my_ bags.” He spat back at the large man, his arm shot out towards his luggage. He was going to miss his flight and then he would be stuck here. There would be no more seats available at this time of year, he’d be stuck in the past for another week at least. This was not the plan. “Give them back!” Adam shrieked, becoming flustered under the stress of his predicament. What did this man want? He had been so angry, why was he here with his bags? Was he going to yell at Adam too?

The man chuckled. “Well you just left them on the sidewalk, I thought they were up for grabs.”

Adam frowned. Was that a joke? The accent wasn't becoming any clearer to him but the man's voice was gruff, despite the wrinkles that crinkled the corner of his eyes as he grinned at Adam. Adam quickly dropped his eyes, back to his bags - the man was still holding them. His arm dropped, it didn't seem like the large man wanted to shout at him but he would have to let him know they were still _his_ bags.

“They are mine, I dropped them when I was pushed. I still want them. I need them to get back.” Everything was in his bags: his I.D., ticket, money. He really needed them. Adam began to sweat, what if he took them anyway? He would get fired if he didn't get back to work, he would need a new I.D. to travel and that would take weeks. “Please.” He added as though it was his last hope. Adam could feel despair rolling over him.

“Hey kid- I mean, whoever the fuck you are. It was just a joke, I'm not an asshole.” He said, holding the bags out to Adam. “See?”

Adam eyed him warily, before taking back his bags. “It's Adam. You were yelling at that other guy, that wasn't all that nice, you know.”

“That's because _he_ was an asshole. I was just letting him know.” The cabbie chuckled again.

Adam stared at him blankly. “Oh.” He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Did you just go and tell people they were assholes? He wasn't sure that would be conducive, it seemed the best way to make a situation worse. But maybe sometimes people didn't know they were being assholes. “I guess sometimes people don't know they are an asshole.” Adam said flatly and the man laughed again.

“Most times, they know. They don't care.”

“So why bother to tell them?” The cabbie sighed, reaching to his ear, searching for something that wasn't there. Maybe he was looking for another cigarette? The man looked back towards his car as that idle hand raked through his silver, blonde hair. It looked soft, Adam imagined the texture would feel nice - calming.

He turned back to Adam. “Well maybe it makes _me_ feel better.”

“But you were really angry.”

“Ok, maybe not better. But… I don't fucking know.” 

Adam shifted on the step, his butt was going numb from the cold and the hardness of his seat. There wouldn't be another bus for fifteen minutes and that was if it was punctual. The cars had started to unstick, some honking their horns and gesturing at the man as they weaved past his cab that still stood in the lane. The cabbie heaved another sigh.

“You want a lift, Adam. To wherever you're going? Looks like you're stuck and I have a cab, so…” He shrugged.

“Why?” Adam imagined that was probably rude, but he wasn't used to someone he didn't know trying to help, not around this area in any case.

“Well, _Adam_ , it's my job to drive people around and I'm going your way anyway.”

“But you don't know where I'm going.”

The man snorted another bout of laughter, “Look, do you want a fucking lift or not?”

“OK.” Adam's reply was instant, he _was_ a cab driver after all. The cabbie blinked in surprise before nodding.

“Good.” he grinned, genuinely pleased with the decision. “Ok, well, I'll grab this big bag. We better get moving before a mob forms.” He moved to take the larger bag and then stalled before his fingers closed on the handle. “If that's ok, Adam?” He waited for Adam to nod before he gripped the bag and turned on his heel, long legs striding back to the cab. Adam watched, taken aback by the bizarre exchange and the outcome. Then he stood and took the smaller bag, following the larger man.

“What's your name? Sorry, it was rude of me not to ask.” Adam called to the man who was yanking a back door open to deposit the larger bag on the seat, then used his foot to push the door shut. 

“It's Nigel.” the man replied. He worked with a strange, aggressive grace that was hypnotic. Yanking the passenger door open, he gestured for Adam to sit. Clutching his shoulder bag tightly to his chest, Adam tried to smile as he nervously skirted the larger man and ducked into the car, settling into a much more warm and comfortable seat than the step had been. Or the bus would have been for _that_ matter. He jumped as the door was banged shut. Adam frowned as he felt relief sweep over him when the driver’s door opened and Nigel climbed into the seat next to him. He didn't often feel relieved around new people.

“Nigel.” Adam repeated. The man nodded as he set the station to something vague that was barely audible once the engine was running.

“That's my name, don't wear it out.” Nigel flashed that grin at him again. Adam felt himself stare.

“Oh.” Adam nodded, “I'll try not to.” He smiled back, dropping his chin after a second and wiping his hands down his jeans. It was strange, as much as he felt almost assured by the man who he had just met, he was also nervous. Nigel’s eyes were golden and Adam found himself wanting to look at them, which was not only rude but unlike him. Not with someone he barely knew.

Adam sighed as he began to relax, he was on his way to the airport. He’d make it on time with all his things _and_ without having to get on the bus. It hadn't been in the plan but this was definitely an improvement.

Nigel observed Adam a second longer before he pulled forward and on their way, to wherever the fuck they were going.

“So, where are you going?” Nigel asked. He reached across Adam to open the glove box, huffing a laugh at how the man drew in on himself as if Nigel was poisonous. Grabbing a cocktail stick, he snapped the compartment closed and shoved the thing between his teeth. He didn't like to smoke with people in the cab. More accurately, it had become a habit - paying customers didn't seem to like him lighting up mid journey.

“The airport.” Adam replied, not sounding completely sure of himself. “I am on the 15:15 flight to LAX. That's where I live, and I work there too. At the Mount Wilson Observatory.” He had the bluest eyes Nigel had ever seen. They shifted around the cab, desperately seeking something to latch onto. Reaching behind his chair, Nigel gripped a tatty map of N.Y. and tossed it into Adam's lap.

“Here, you can call the directions.” Nigel offered, maybe it would help. He wasn't sure what to make of the younger man. He wasn't slow and obviously working at an Observatory, he was far from dumb. But there was a naivety there that stood out, a blunt and literal perspective. Not a dry humour that he knew the Brits were famous for, Adam was definitely not a Brit. He was different but Nigel found it appealing.

“Don't you know the way to the airport?” Adam scoffed.

“Sometimes I forget.” Nigel lied. Adam looked at him for a second before turning to stare out of the misting windows, his finger pointed towards a flash of blue that passed them. 

“But there are signs.” Adam countered.

“Sometimes I don't see them.” Nigel held a straight face as long as he could as Adam bored holes into him with those piercing eyes, he quite clearly didn't believe him. A snort of laughter ripped through him. He was delighted when a small smile pulled the corners of Adam's lips up. “Ok.. ok. I thought it might help.”

“Help what?”

“You. You look nervous. Like you want to focus on something, so I figured if you looked at the map you'd… you know... focus or something.”

“Oh.” The younger man replied. His cheeks pinked at the comment and he did now study the map, but his eyes were scanning the pages without really looking. Perhaps he was trying to figure out what to say. Nigel suddenly felt stupid for his suggestion.

“I didn't mean to offend you, or upset you. I was just… I thought it might help. It was fucking dumb.”

“No it wasn't _fucking dumb_.” Adam's mouth moved awkwardly around the cuss word, “It was nice. People don't try and accommodate me normally. They usually just stare or sometimes comment, ignore me, avoid me or make fun of me. But they don't help. Thank you.”

Nigel shrugged, uncomfortable under the appreciation for simply _not_ being an asshole. Was it that hard for people to accommodate someone who ran in a slightly different lane from them? Apparently so. “Fuck them.” Nigel said gruffly, suddenly feeling a stab of rage toward these hypothetical people.

Adam blinked. “Fuck who?”

“Those people. They are assholes.”

Adam continued to stare at him until he suddenly laughed, soft and nervous. “They aren't assholes. They just don't know any better.”

Perhaps that was true but it didn't mean they should act like assholes. Adam seemed all too practical in his analysis of those that took him wrong, despite the way it clearly upset him.

“I probably don't know any better than them. But I was still…. A fucking decent human to you.” Nigel didn't want to say _nice_ because frankly he had just treated Adam with a little courtesy, which was just how people _should_ be. He knew that wasn't the way of things, people were rotten more often than not, despite Adam's optimistic perspective on the matter. The younger man looked like he was struggling with a response. “Tell me about you. What is it that makes you unique. What don't people get?” Nigel chewed the cocktail stick as they sat at a red light, eyes forward to give Adam some space to think.

“Well, I have Aspergers. That means I find it hard to read people and emotions. I am literal so it can take me a while to configure a joke, if it's a play on words. I can come across blunt. Sometimes… a lot of times they can think I'm dumb. But I'm not, my brain is just wired differently.” Adam nodded as he trailed off, “I can talk a lot too, when I'm excited. I can't read someone's interest and if I'm enthusiastic I will go on. People find that strange too. Annoying sometimes” Adam stopped there, visibly holding himself from doing just that.

“Well, I like listening.” Nigel put in. It made sense, now Adam described it to him. It wasn't weird though.

“Oh, that's good.” Adam smiled again, it was a beautiful timid thing before he ducked his head. “I like routines, I function much better with a routine. It's why I was stressed out earlier. On the sidewalk. The bus was late and I-I had a plan, to be at the airport for a certain time. I usually go to the restaurant there before my flight, they have a diner that I like. But there was traffic and then the shouting, the bus didn't even stop.” Nigel could hear the agitation building again in the younger man's voice. Reaching across to Adam's lap he squeezed the man's knee reassuringly. Adam froze at the contact. Nigel withdrew his hand immediately, he had just wanted to soothe him.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have done that. That _was_ fucking dumb.” Adam continued to stare where Nigel had touched him. That was fucking forward, what the hell was wrong with him? “I just… don't want you to be stressed.”

“But you just met me.” Adam murmured, eyes glued to his knee.

“I know. It's fucking stupid. I'm probably making it worse. I _always_ do this.” Nigel gritted his teeth, glaring through the windshield and wondering whether he should just hand Adam his car keys to drive to the airport alone whilst he threw himself out onto the road. What was he thinking? You can't just touch people who you just met like that? There was a long uncomfortable pause until Adam cleared his throat.

“I don't know what you always do, Nigel, but that wasn't fucking stupid. I get anxiety when I panic, touch usually grounds me. Me touching something or someone touching me. I mean, it's not like anyone can do it, some people make my anxiety worse when they try to touch me. It's complicated I guess.”

Nigel mulled the sentence over in his mind, “So I didn't make it worse?”

“No.”

“I helped?” Nigel asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

Grinning like a fool, Nigel took the cocktail stick from his mouth and held it between his fingers as he steered the car around a bend.

“Well, that's good.”

“Good? I'm not sure I agree. You live here and I don't, so it won't be much help.” Adam punctuated the words with a laugh, he was trying to make a joke but the humour was lost on Nigel this time. The thought was a somber one and it quieted him. 

“You're sad. Did I upset you, Nigel?” Adam peered at him from his seat, Nigel could see him from the corner of his eye but he tried not to look. 

“No. Of course not.” Nigel flashed him a smile. It didn't touch his eyes.

“What's wrong then.” Nigel sighed. As much as the younger man said he couldn't read people he sure as hell knew when he _should_ be reading something.

“It's crazy.”

“What's crazy?”

“I was just thinking… I was _sad_ because you don't live here. I've been here six months now and this is the first real conversation I've had with someone.”

Adam paused a moment, still in his seat before looking straight at Nigel.

“Do you like me?”

The disbelief in Adam's voice physically hurt a part of Nigel. “Of course, what's not to like?”

“Other people don't see it that way.”

“For one, I am not other fucking people. And secondly, I told you most people are assholes.” Nigel shrugged as though that made perfect sense. To him it did.

There was another thoughtful pause. “Do you like me as a friend or sexually?”

Nigel almost choked on thin air, he wasn't prepared for _that_ question. His face heated in his coughing fit. “You really are blunt, aren't you?”

“I did say that. I think you're very good looking, if that helps.” 

It was Nigel’s turn to search for words. It was usually he that would push in this area. He knew his mouth was hanging open. _Very good looking?_ Adam was attracted to him and he could say it as simply as though he was saying the sky was blue. Meanwhile, Nigel looked like a goldfish.

“I do. Both.” Nigel stammered. When Adam continued to stare at him he decided to elaborate, but not before taking a deep breath. Why was he so fucking nervous? “I think you'd be a great friend and I think you are attractive. Sexually.” It was more than that, Nigel found Adam intriguing and beautiful, unique and captivating - all in thirty fucking minutes. But how did he say that without looking insane? How could he admit to it without opening himself up to hurt? _Again._

The turning to the airport was coming up and Nigel both felt relief and reluctance. If Adam was with him much longer he wouldn't want to let go.

“So, is there anything that keeps you in New York?” Adam asked, fingering the corners of the map absentmindedly as he stared out the window.

“No, not really. I have the job but, honestly, I don't need one. It's just… you know. To do something.”

Adam nodded. “I didn't know it when I lived here, but I think the way that people live on top of each other wasn't good for me. Where I live now… there's so much more room. To breathe. I can go and take walks in the woods and my house is pretty big. By New York standards anyway. It's like the first breath of air you take after swimming underwater.”

Nigel listened to the younger man and hummed his agreement. It was something he disliked, there was no privacy. Even in your own home, someone would hear you, see you come and go. It was life in the big city, the same the world over. As strange as it was, Nigel was drawn to a quieter life now.

“I can understand that. Sometimes it's suffocating. Most times, in fact.”

There was a heartbeat of silence before Adam spoke. “Why don't you come too?” 

Nigel blinked, not sure he had heard or understood fully. “Come where?” He asked dumbfounded.

“To L.A. You could stay with me. I don't mean like _that_ , I have guest rooms. Unless we both want to.”

“Leave with you? Today?” Nigel couldn't help the laugh of disbelief that bubbled from him as Adam nodded. He regretted it as soon as it was out and Adam's face screwed up in pain before he reflexively smoothed his features. He might not be able to read Nigel, but he had obviously been teased enough to perceive Nigel as laughing _at_ him. 

“I was just… I didn't mean it.” Adam mumbled into his hands as he scrubbed at his face.

“I wasn't laughing at you. I'm just surprised. It's a big thing, you know. Just leaving and going across the country. We just met.”

“I thought you said there was nothing here for you?”

“There isn't.”

“So I can't be _something_ to you if nothing is what is holding you back.” Despite how Adam's words cut them both, he wore a smile as though he spoke simple facts. Which, of course, he did in his own mind. How did he explain the fear that gripped him? The pain the dug into him simply at the idea of feeling _something_? Nigel realised with a grimace that he already did feel something.

Nigel’s futility with words dragged out until he pulled into the departures bay. Turning to Adam, he felt the need to say something.

“Listen, Adam, what I said-”

“It's fine.” He replied, firm but with a smile. His eyes were fixed on Nigel’s chin though. The older man's heart sank. 

“No, really, I didn't-”

“It's _fine.”_ Adam impressed. “Thank you for the lift, it was kind of you to help. How much do I owe you?”

Nigel’s mouth hung open. He hadn't done this for the fucking fare. “I didn't do this for the fare, Adam. I don't want your money.”

Adam had opened the door and was sliding from the seat, distancing himself from Nigel. It took all his effort not to reach out and grab the other man. The door slammed shut and Nigel flinched at the finality of the noise. There was no relief when the back door opened and Adam ducked his head in to grab the larger bag. If he had forgotten it, that could have been Nigel’s excuse to follow him. He realised he was holding his hand out now in Adam's direction, half pleading. His arm dropped.

“Well, maybe I will see you around. Thank you again, Nigel, you've been very kind.”

“It was the least I could do.” Words caught in Nigel’s throat, the protests he wanted to make, the denials to Adam's assessments. They all died on his tongue. He was fucking useless. Adam took it as the end to their conversation and, with one last tenuous smile, he was gone. Nigel was left staring at the car door as it slammed shut on him.

Turning to sit straight in his seat, Nigel slammed the palms of his hands down on the steering wheel over and over until they began to hurt. Going to L.A. after knowing someone for forty minutes? It was rash and naive and unrealistic for a whole host of reasons. Nigel counted them off in his head one by one, convincing himself that it _was_ a silly idea. After five long minutes of sitting still as stone, staring through the windshield, Nigel admitted defeat. It was fear that held him back. When had he not been impetuous? Impulsive? When had he not followed his heart? 

_His heart._

“Fuck it.”

Adam moved through the airport in a daze, he wasn't even sure he said a word to anyone since leaving Nigel. He had sat in the diner that he liked but hadn't even ordered. Time seemed to rush by as he was absorbed in his own thoughts, Adam didn't even have the energy to fret over whether his bag would end up in the right plane. As he sat at his gate, he stared at a dark spot on the carpet, completely closed to the world around him. Usually he would watch the baggage carts like a hawk, trying to spot his own bag and sate some of his anxiety. Not today.

He had been too forward. It had been stupid to ask Nigel. He had just felt that it made sense. Once Adam had felt lost in N.Y., just like Nigel seemed to be. It was the only thing he could think to suggest as an option, seeing as he could at least see Adam as a friend. It _had_ made sense. But it was a huge move, he understood that. He really shouldn't feel as sad as he did, but an ache seemed to vibrate in him. It didn't feel like it was done, there _should_ be more. But Nigel had made it clear, it was too big a leap of faith.

It was odd, never had Adam felt so comfortable and attracted to someone, it had been almost instant once he had focussed on the man. Nigel’s energy was addictive. He had been so caring, indifferent to his aspergers and protective, even _he_ had picked up on those emotions. It had been refreshing for Adam. When Nigel had touched him, electricity seemed to flood through his veins. He desperately wanted more, but it was a foolish hope. He hadn't even asked the man where he was from. Emotion began to descend on him again. The tears of frustration that he had kept at bay as he sat on the steps two and a half hours ago welled up in him once more. Why did he always have to do this? Scare everyone away because he seemed so needy? Why couldn't he just be normal? He _did_ need someone but he wanted to give as much as he took. Why could he never show people that side of him? Was there nothing in him that could be wanted?

Fingers tightened painfully in his hair as Adam's grip firmed, holding all the pain back from himself and the world.

“ _Last call for the 15:15 to LAX.”_

The voice on the tannoy jolted Adam from his brooding. Grabbing his carry on bag, he made his way to the gate. The attendant didn't look at him as she smiled and he was grateful. He really didn't feel like smiling.

“Enjoy your flight, Sir.”

Adam murmured something that could have been thanks over his shoulder as he scurried through the gate and away from this nightmare.

It wasn't hard to find his seat. He had selected a window seat and, although the plane was full, both his seat and the one next to his were empty. He was relieved, Adam didn't want to talk to anyone else today and misinterpret them or get things wrong. The whole process of understanding and conversing with someone without Aspergers was draining, and it was crushing when you made a social misstep. People didn't see that side of the syndrome. They always noted how hard a _normal_ person had to work be with an Aspie but they never took into account how much work an Aspie had to put in to interact with almost everyone.

It had been easy with Nigel.

Adam closed his eyes tight, trying to think of anything to keep his mind from the man he had just met and probably would never see again. Breathing heavily from his nose, Adam steadied himself but the weight on his chest remained. How did you miss someone you barely knew?  His finger traced inside the pocket of his shoulder bag, finding the tattered edge of Nigel’s map. He shouldn't have taken it but by the time he realised the thing was still clutched in his hand, he was too nervous to return. Nigel’s car had still been there though, parked in the bay. Maybe he was looking for cigarettes? Would he still be there? No, of course he wouldn't.

The plane began to taxi to the runway and Adam kept his eyes closed. He would usually watch every second from the window. The engineering behind flight was endlessly fascinating to him.

A weight landed in the seat next to him, Adam grimaced, immediately anticipating the journey all the way to the other side of the country where he had to dodge conversation. Perhaps he could just fall asleep? That _was_ completely out of schedule for him, but his plans for today already lay in tatters. 

“It's not all that bad is It?” 

Adam stopped breathing. That was Nigel’s voice. No, it must be someone that sounded like him. It couldn't be him. Air rushed out of his lungs as a hand found Adam's, grasping the arms of his seat so tight it hurt. Fingers gently pried his loose, taking Adam’s hand within the hold of two large, warm palms.

Adam opened one eye slowly. He could already be dreaming, maybe he had fallen asleep? But he didn't grin like this in his sleep, his cheeks hurt with the force of it. The face next to his came into view. It _was_ Nigel, as large as life and grinning back at him. Adam couldn't help the laugh that spilled from him at the sight of the man.

“I thought you didn't want to come.” his voice was almost a whisper. He felt like they were doing something they shouldn't be and if Adam talked loud enough then they would be found out.

“You have my map.” Adam's joy faded as he stared back at Nigel, eyebrows drawn together. “I forgot the way back.” He added, his face becoming serious. Anticipation exploded inside Adam as he understood. His joy returned tenfold but Nigel’s golden eyes held him there, wanting and waiting - the laugh Adam had intended came out as a staggered breath. Fingers began trailing down his face and everything went still, even the plane that was hurtling down the runway about to take off. The tips of Nigel’s fingers reached Adam's chin and they beckoned him closer still. The wheels lifted from the tarmac just as Nigel closed the final distance, his lips pressing gently to Adam's. His own fingers found themselves combing through hair that was just as soft as he had imagined. Adam clung to the man, and the man held him right back and just as tight.

Nigel pulled back from the kiss, just enough so his lips brushed against Adam's when he spoke. “I didn't want to be lost.”


End file.
